


"I'm proud of you."

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Sadstuck, in where angel uses her favourite characters as a stress ball for her feelings, this time its eridan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:47:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I'm proud of you.”</p><p>Eridan hadn't heard that phrase all throughout the 16 years of his life, and the realization of that just hit him, and it hit hard, extremely hard. </p><p>The story of how Eridan Ampora just wanted people to be proud of him, but after being denied so, he cracked under the pressure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I'm proud of you."

**Author's Note:**

> I do this thing where I take my favourite in a fandom and express my feelings through them. It has happened before. And now it's happening to Eridan. I'm sorry Eridan, I love you. Here have my feelings in a fanfic. Enjoy if you like that kind of thing.

“I'm proud of you.”

Eridan hadn't heard that phrase all throughout the 16 years of his life, and the realization of that just hit him, and it hit hard, _extremely_ hard. 

Over the past few years, He had fallen into the cyclone of emotional turmoil that was a combination of social anxiety and depression, both caused by his so-called friends and 'caring' family. 

He just wanted praise, motivation, something to make him feel good. Whenever he did, it was ignored, shunned, shoved off like it was nothing. Nothing he did pleased them, no matter how hard he worked, no matter how hard he studied, no matter what he did, there was no praise, just a simple nod of the head, and they were on their way, busy with their own lives to care any less. But what was worse, is whenever he slacked off, whenever he messed up, he failed, did something wrong, made a mistake, it was a big deal, jeers, taunts, and lectures were thrown his way, instead of sympathetic gestures. 

No “Do better next time, Eridan.” “It's alright, you tried your best.” “Try again next time!” 

Instead there was jeers from his so-called friends and classmates, “Oh, Eridan failed his test, he failed!” “Everyone look at Eridan's test scores, they're lower than ours!” “That means he didn't study!” “He failed!” and after several times, “You will always fail, don't get your hopes up.” 

And at home, “Eridan, what is this?” “What happened?” “We asked for _one_ thing, and that is to give us non-failing grades and this is what you gives us?” “It's because you don't do your homework, isn't it? Are you that _lazy_ ? In fact, all you ever do is sit in front of that computer of yours! What if we disconnect it from the internet, hmm? Would that help? How about we take it away from you? Would that work?” 

Eridan would say nothing and look away, trying to keep back the tears that were welling up in his eyes, wishing for the lecture to be over, and when it was, he would walk back to his room, pretending to be okay, pretending to be fine, and as soon as he closed the door and was out of sight, he let the tears fall, silently sobbing, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself. 

And as he was sobbing, the thoughts ran across his mind in a circle, thoughts of how he could never make anyone proud of him, how worthless he was, how useless, how no one would want him for the failure he was. 

He had only a few comforts in the world, but they could only do so much to help him. 

And after a stress-filled day, Eridan finally cracked under pressure.

He took a sharpener, and sought out for a screwdriver, having not found one, he used other objects that could get the job done, the job of separating the blade from it's plastic casing. Once having done that, he locked himself into the bathroom, unseen as usual, his family was busily at work doing something he wasn't involved in, and blade in his left, his dominant hand, the scar-free surface of his right facing him, soon it was blemished, blemished by 4 lines, none of them drawing blood, simple abrasions that would heal over in a few days.  
That was the first time he did it. When he did, he felt ashamed, and told his closest friend through Skype, and said friend told him to promise he wouldn't do it again, as it could get addicting. 

The promise didn't last long, after a few days of the scars healing over, the stress getting to Eridan once more, he broke the promise, repeating the process of removing the blade and sending it down his skin, still not drawing blood. 

And the cycle repeated itself, Eridan let the scars heal until they didn't hurt anymore, and when the combination of stress and his thoughts haunting him, occasionally after a session of him crying softly and silently to himself, he would do it again, and it would make him feel better, the thoughts would go away and after a few times, Eridan didn't feel any regret, the better part of his conscience question why he would do this to himself, but he went through it anyway. 

No one knew that he did this, the only person who did was on the internet, across the Pacific Ocean, and that person didn't even know he had broken his promise. Eridan didn't have the heart to tell his friend he had broken his promise to them, that would lead to his friend being disappointed in him, and he would have disappointed another person. Eridan didn't want that. He had done that enough times already. 

_So He kept it a secret, a secret that he would take to his grave._


End file.
